


The Different Hugs of Dick Grayson

by hawkstout



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Gen, Hugs, Shorts, international hug day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkstout/pseuds/hawkstout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are different kinds of hugs, there are different kinds of people. Here are some of the occasions of Dick hugging his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Different Hugs of Dick Grayson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtsaboutdickgrayson](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thoughtsaboutdickgrayson).



> For thoughtsaboutdickgrayson for International Hug Day.

**Comfort**

Tim had been easier in the beginning to pull into hugs. He was a thirteen-year-old, not into really big shows of affection, but they’d bump fists and he accepted Dick’s hugs with a smile when it had been a long time since they had seen each other, or something special had happened.

It changed when Tim got older and had seen more things and lost his father. He started emulating Bruce more and that bubble grew thicker and tougher.

Tim collapsed in his arms and grief radiated off him. He let the specimen bottles drop to the ground. Stephanie, Jack Drake, Conner. Three of Tim’s most precious people and he had poured out the vile water because it was the right thing to do.

Dick held him tightly and let Tim’s anguish rush through him and wondered if he could have made the same decision at that age.

They were on their knees. Tim had pulled him down. Dick ran a hand through is hair and kissed the top of his head.

Tim was one of the bravest people he knew.

-

**Grounding**

Barbara always knew when hugs were needed. It was like a natural talent. They had known each other for a long time. Had been friends, lovers, partners, and touched every bit in between. She knew when he needed to feel solid in the here and now. She knew when he was having problems with Bruce, or was exhausted from being in too many places at once. When he got too far away from the present and slipped into the past or the future.

She would pull him down and let him hug her, and feel her, and know her, and he would feel steady and solid again. Sometimes it would be wordless and gentle. Sometimes it would be brief and fierce. But he always felt grounded and safe with her.

When he had left Bruce he didn’t go to her instantly, but it was inevitable he would find himself in front of her. She didn’t understand the whys and hows, that could be discussed and argued later, for now she open her arms and he felt stable for the first time in weeks. He thanked God every day he had her as a friend.

-

**Gratitude/Encouragement**

No one would believe him when he said Jason had loved hugs, and usually he was the one that initiated them. The early days were days Dick missed sorely. When Jason was upset or angry he was like an injured wolf and you couldn’t get near him, but when he was happy? Jason liked to spread his joy without realizing it.

The first time he had ever hugged Jason was right after he had handed over his original Robin uniform. Jason’s jaw had dropped as Dick held it in front of him. Bruce was very carefully trying to hide tears, actual tears in his eyes as Dick accepted Jason as his successor. Jason ran to put it on, and Dick had to admit, Jason Todd looked great.

All of the sudden Jason’s arms were wrapped around him swearing that he would never let him down. That he would honour the costume. That he would live up to Robin.

Dick hugged him back and he knew he had a stupid grin on his face at Jason’s excitement and nervousness. Then Jason pulled back taking on his tough guy look and punched his arm and gave a small: “Thanks.” And Dick burst out laughing. Kid wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. He swiftly pulled Jason into another hug.

“You’re gonna do fine, little brother.”

-

**Apology**

With Steph hugging was a bit different. He had met her rarely before her ‘death’ and afterwards she was very much Barbara’s student—during a time when he and Babs were avoiding one another. It wasn’t until Dick later he got to know Stephanie Brown. She was bright and enthusiastic to do well, but…there was a lot of arguing, and worry, and admittedly Dick fought against her as Batgirl.

Steph proved herself to Dick, which… Dick realized was kind of ridiculous on his part.

Barbara Gordon knew this fight as well—if not better than he did.

“You know who she reminds me of?”

“She’s not Jason, Dick.” Barbara was tense, maybe thinking it was a barb, but it wasn’t.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Dick said, “Especially when it’s you looking after her. I know what people whispered in the league. Jason was the ‘amateur’ Robin, what was Bruce thinking? Somehow it was easier for them to accept an acrobat than a street kid. And I’ll admit, it was easier to accept Cass than Steph, but you know what? Steph chose to be a hero on her own, worked for a long time on her own. Chose to leave and come back… and now she’s not alone anymore. Batgirl is yours Barbara.” Dick rubbed the back of his head, “I don’t get a say. Batman or not.”

Babs smiled her: ‘oh he gets it finally’ smile. Then she looked up at him with knowing green eyes, “It’s not me you should be telling that to you know.”

He opened his mouth. She was right, he should tell Steph properly, but as it turned out—

“Di—uh, Batman?” Steph was behind him. Barbara winked before he turned around. She was in her uniform with her cowl down. She was doing her best to look strong and worthy. He felt a bit embarrassed she looked so moved and realized he should have told her long ago.

“Best one for the job, definitely,” Dick said. He bent down and hugged her tightly. “I was wrong to even question. I’m sorry.”

-

**Reassurance**

Alfred had been confusing. Kind, steady, stern: exactly what you would think of when you thought the word ‘butler.’ At eight, Dick didn’t think people like that actually existed outside the movies.

But Alfred was a good person. Dick could tell right away, even when he was distracted with grief and rage. Maybe it was because Alfred knew how to deal with that, yet he maintained a distance from Dick, and Dick wasn’t really sure why. He saw the way Alfred took care of him and Bruce, he saw the obvious love. But Alfred didn’t touch or hug, or pat him on the head, which Dick found extremely strange.

He unconsciously saw a kindred spirit in Alfred Pennyworth. Someone a lot like himself. Alfred was a strong, brave man, affectionate and emotionally intelligent man. He was the type that wanted to express himself through touch as well, but Bruce had built a shell that only words could penetrate. He had gotten into the habit. He said the kindest words and gave the best advice, but he was almost like a phantom in those early days. Sometimes the briefest of shoulder pats, which was probably as much as Bruce regularly allowed.

One night Alfred was sitting by the fire where the old grandfather clock was, looking far removed. He was twisting his hands and checking at his watch every few minutes. It was five in the morning. Dick had had a nightmare and had been going to the kitchen for milk (and maybe a few cookies) to calm himself down.

“Alfred?”

“Master Dick,” Alfred wasn’t taken by surprise very often. The older man look at him, startled, “What on Earth are you doing out of bed, young man?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dick said evasively. He didn’t really want to talk about it, besides, it looked like Alfred had his own worries. He didn’t need Dick’s as well. He cautiously entered the circle of light from the fire.

“What about you?” He asked, “Why are you up so late? Is Bruce home from the party yet?”

Bruce went out for parties a lot, and then he would sleep all day. Dick suddenly realized Alfred was worried. When he played with the other kids too late, Mom and Dad would look like that, just before they realized he was there and started telling him off. He felt a well of phantom guilt, but quickly focused on the butler.

“He’s okay,” Dick said firmly. He was unaware of Batman and his mission or the fact that Bruce was looking in every rat hole in Gotham for Tony Zucco. All he knew was that Alfred was scared for Bruce, and a he wanted to make him feel better. Dick carefully moved closer, then leaned up as far as he could and hugged Alfred. Alfred pulled him up into a more proper hug. Dick quickly saw a rare open smile bloom on the older man’s face.

“He’ll be okay,” Dick repeated, not hearing the soft grind of the Grandfather clock or seeing the shadow silently move past them.

-

**Appreciation**

Cass communicated with movement. That was her native language. Although it had all been translated to words in her head, she was still fluent.

Dick was a natural conversing with Cass. Never at her level, but he made himself understood, and he had the feeling she appreciated that. Of all the members of the family he liked sparring with her the best because it was hard. She was a master at predicting moves and Dick liked nothing better than to try to bluff her. She liked nothing better than to connect her strike anyway.

Dick had to acknowledge there was a quiet rivalry between them that was never really brought up. More so than with Jason, or even Tim.

Dick didn’t want to be Batman. He reminded himself of that every single time he looked at Cassandra Cain. There stood someone with the potential to be just as good, if not better than him in that role. He had to push down the want of being Bruce’s true successor.

I don’t want to be Batman.

He had never had to do that with any other Robin or Batgirl, but with Cass it was different.

Maybe, it was because he could see her as so clearly as Batman when before that, the only person he could see taking Bruce’s mantle was himself, a scenario usually played out of necessity rather than Dick’s own choice.

I don’t want it. He would think again.

It wasn’t that the others were less talented than them. Not at all. Tim would make a brilliant Batman.

It was their drive and their sense of duty, and she never denied that being Batman was her goal.

Dick moved in circles, Cass moved in straight lines.

And maybe he did want to be Batman… just a little bit.

After their spars they would bow, and Dick would give her a hug of appreciation. His little sister kept him honest.

-

**Affection**

Damian was touchy, early on in their relationship Dick was pretty sure he had him pegged. Damian must be like Bruce. Not the type for obvious touches of affection. Prickly as a porcupine that kid.

But then he got to know Damian. He watched from a distance when he saw him hug Bruce and Talia on more than one occasion.

The kid didn’t dislike hugs at all. He took a great comfort in them, but if Dick so much as put a firm hand on his shoulder when they were Batman and Robin, Damian would instantly slap the hand away.

“I’m not a child, Grayson.”

He knew Damian liked him and accepted him as a mentor, and even as a brother. Heck, they played video games and ate junk food together. There were even moments when Damian asked him advice about things outside of their vigilante justice.

It took him awhile to figure it out.

It was the meaning of a hug. How Damian perceived it.

A hug is safety, security, protection.

Damian didn’t want Dick’s protection. He wanted to be Dick’s partner, his equal.

With Bruce and Talia he would always be a son, and perhaps Damian accepted, in their eyes, he would always be their child.

And Talia was his mother, his protector since he was a baby.

And Bruce… well, Bruce was everyone’s protector.

With Dick he wanted something different. He wanted to be seen as equal, he wanted to be a functional and respected part of Batman and Robin. Damian didn’t want to be seen as needing Dick; rather Damian wanted to support Dick.

There was no way to get around it, and if Damian didn’t want hugs from him, that was his choice.

But, Damian took great pleasure when Dick offered him a handshake or fist bump.

It was an acknowledgement that they had both worked well together, that they respected one another.

And that there was affection between them.

-

**Family**

It wasn’t that Bruce never ever hugged Dick. In fact, when he was a kid Bruce was pretty free with his hugs. As they grew older they both grew out of it. It wasn’t that the affection wasn’t there anymore, far from it, it was that it had changed.

But there were times when Bruce would reach out for him, after a crisis, usually after he had almost just lost him. Dick noticed it when he was Robin. Seconds before being told off for recklessness, Bruce would touch his shoulder, or tug at his cape, or do something physical as a reassurance that Dick was still with him. It wouldn’t last more than a second. Bruce never got out of the habit. On team ups, sometimes if he was thinking about it, he would feel the quick pressure on his shoulder or back after he had almost got hit. It was like Bruce’s brain couldn’t quite catch up with all the things he needed to pay attention to, so he would touch Dick as an instant reassurance that didn’t need to be processed. Dick is okay, move on.

There were few things that Bruce got more upset about than being unable to confirm when one of his allies was alright. It went double for the young men and woman he had taken on as apprentices.

A lot of people saw Batman as an icon for justice and vengeance. Dick saw it differently. Batman, in his mind, was more of a symbol of family. What could happen when family was lost, and what could happen when family was found again, how people could come together and make something wholly out of love.

That’s what Batman was when you cut out all the darkness and vengeance and fear. Bruce, Gotham’s Dark Knight.

He wanted to protect families.

Especially his family.

So on the rare occasions that Bruce hugged him when Dick had grown up, that was what he felt.


End file.
